A Riptide Forms
by Duckett-1
Summary: Sequel to How the Tide Flows. Almyra finally got the man she loves back, along with her soul. After two years of the most perfect pirate's life, Jack's time is running out. Davy Jones is after him, and Almyra will do anything in her power to save the man she loves—even if it means betraying her friends, Will and Elizabeth.
1. Prologue - Dead Man's Chest

Almyra stood at the helm of the Pearl, watching Gibbs walk over the deck, drunk and singing as he bumbled around.

Almyra smiled at the sight, humming along to Gibbs' song as he gruffly made melodies of the words.

 _"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest_

 _Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum_

 _Drink and the devil had done for the rest_

 _Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum."_

Both of them stopped the tune when they heard a loud bell toll from the nearby port, where Jack had slipped away on his own.

Almyra looked up to see a frenzied murder of crows flying off in the foggy, eerie night sky.

"What are you up to, Jack?" She whispered to herself, sighing at the concern she felt blossoming in her chest.


	2. Chapter One

Gibbs reached down to help Jack aboard _the Pearl_ , but was handed a skeletal leg with some flesh still clinging to the bone.

Gibbs made a disgusted expression as Almyra draped Jack's coat over his shoulders.

"Not quite according to plan," Gibbs pointed out, tossing the leg overboard.

Jack kissed Almyra briefly in greeting before turning to the rest of the crew. "Complications arose, ensued, and were overcome."

"You got what you went in for, then?" Gibbs asked hopefully.

"MmHmm," Jack said, pulling a tattered piece of cloth from his pocket.

Almyra raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"

Jack didn't answer, just smiled at her.

Gibbs cleared his throat a little nervously. "Captain, I think the crew—meaning myself and Al as well—were expecting something a bit more… shiny. What, with the Isla de Muerta going all pear shaped, reclaimed by the sea, treasure and all."

"That bloody island is better off underwater," Almyra grumbled, shaking her head. "That I must disagree with."

Gibbs just shrugged slightly as another crew member brought up another point. "And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic."

"And the hurricane!" Marty, their resident midget, brought up.

That one made Almyra nod in agreement.

"All in all," Gibbs summarized, "it's seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating."

Almyra almost laughed at the contradiction of that statement.

"Shiny?" Jack repeated.

"Aye, shiny."

"Is that how you're all feeling, then?" Jack asked, looking around at the crew. "Perhaps dear ol' Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?"

The next to say something was Cotton's parrot. "Awk! Walk the plank!"

Jack pulled his pistol, pointing it at the colorful parrot. "What did the bird say?"

"Do not blame the bird," another pirate onboard, Leech, said simply.

"Jack," Almyra said, changing the subject. "What's on that piece of cloth?"

Jack the monkey suddenly jumped out, snatching the cloth from Jack's hand.

"Ohh!" Jack moved quickly to shoot the undead animal, and almost growled in frustration when his pistol misfired. He turned and pulled Al's pistol from her belt, aiming and blasting the monkey.

Despite the landed shot, the monkey scampered into the rigging of the ship, unharmed, but he had dropped the cloth.

"You know that don't do no good," Gibbs told Jack.

"It does me," Jack grumbled as Marty bounced over to the cloth.

He picked it up and unfolded the tattered sheet. "It's a key!"

Jack sauntered over to Marty and took the cloth from him, holding it up to show the rest of the crew. "No, it's much more better! It is a _drawing_ of a key."

Almyra raised an eyebrow a second time, frowning slightly as she stepped forward to avoid the crowding crew.

"Gentlemen, Myra." Jack showed them the drawing of the two pronged key. "What do keys do?"

"Keys… unlock… things," Leech said slowly, as if he thought it might've been a trick question.

Almyra rolled her eyes for the fifteenth time that day.

"And whatever this key unlocks," Gibbs assumed, "inside there's something valuable. So we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!"

"No!" Jack said with a scoff. "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is the key unlocks, so what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked—which we don't have—without first having found the key which unlocks it?"

"So…" It took Gibbs a moment to piece together what he expected the plan was. "We're going after this key!"

Jack leaned forward a little and looked closely at Gibbs. "You're not making any sense at all. Any more questions?"

"Do we have a heading, Captain?" Almyra spoke up, stepping forward with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ha! A heading." Jack turned his back to the crew and opened his compass, his finger in the air and following the point of the compass around until it slowed to a stop. "Set sail in a general…" He pointed over his head and to the left. "...that way direction."

"Cap'n?" Gibbs asked in confusion.

Jack turned around. "Come on, snap to and make sail, you know how this works!"

The captain of _the_ _Pearl_ grabbed Almyra's arm before she could move with the rest of the crew. "You and I need to talk."

She nodded slowly, almost cautiously. She couldn't figure out what had Jack acting so jumpy.

* * *

Marty and Gibbs crowded toward the railing on the deck.

"Have you noticed lately…" Marty started. "The captain seems to be actin' a bit strange… er."

"Settin' sail without knowing his own heading?" Gibbs shook his head. "Something's got Jack vexed. Mark my words, what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for all of us."


	3. Chapter Two

"What are we talking about, Jack?" Almyra asked as she followed Jack into the captain's quarters, where she tended to stay with him. "Because it it isn't about what's got you all riled and jumpy, I'm afraid I don't want to know."

"The problem, love," Jack said as he sat in the chair near his desk, where maps were spread in an almost unruly manner and his tools to navigate them were also spread strangely. "Is that my time is running out."

Almyra's blue-green eyes suddenly filled with concern. "If this is a game, Jack, I will gut you where you sit. What are you talking about?"

"I wish it were a game," he said with a deep frown beneath his dark brunette mustache. He leaned forward, something strange alight in his dark eyes. Something like fear. "Davy Jones."

Almyra's tan skin paled beyond measure, and Jack was suddenly, viscerally reminded of when Barbossa almost killed her, and he tensed all over, ready to grab her if she fell.

"Davy Jones?" She repeated in shock. "Jack, that's not possible. Your time isn't up yet. You've only been Captain of _the Pearl_ for two years."

Jack snorted. "I hope you can help me convince Jones of that point."

She shook her head slightly, her blondish braid shifting slightly on her shoulder. "The deal… what was it again?"

Jack sighed, rubbing his forehead overtop the deep scarlet bandana wrapped around his hair. "One-hundred years servitude on _the_ _Dutchman_. Or the Locker."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"He won't listen to reason about this, will he? You deserve at least ten more years because of the amount of time you weren't Captain." Almyra argued quickly, wanting nothing more than to have that be true, for Jack to have another decade.

He didn't say anything for a moment, only motioned for her to come closer.

She obeyed, crouching near where he sat in a chair, just barely containing herself from reaching out for his arm.

He cupped her jaw softly in his hand, kissing her light hair that was revealed from the folded blue bandana that held back any fallen pieces of her thick braid.

"Just in case this doesn't bode well for me," Jack said softly. "There's no one that deserves this more."

"Deserves what, Jack?" She asked tenderly, suddenly even more worried as she straightened from where she had leaned into his touch.

Jack pulled a small, tarnished silver piece from his pocket and held it out for her.

Almyra's eyes grew even wider. "Jack, no. I can't take it. That's your Piece of Eight."

Jack nodded, just the smallest ghost of a despairing smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "Of course it is. If Jones does get me, you'll need to have it."

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. "I love you, Jack Sparrow."

"I love you too, Myra." Jack cracked a wider smile, infusing as much happiness as he could into the expression. "But you of all people know there should be a Captain in there somewhere."

He leaned in to kiss her softly, and she didn't think about stopping him. She wasn't sure how many of them she had left.


	4. Chapter Three

Jack was sitting in the captain's quarters, marching a set of calipers over a map with his left hand, though his sleeve was pushed up enough to reveal the stark white brand _P_ on his forearm on his right. He impatiently tapped his compass before huffing and looking into his bottle of rum and finding nothing. He turned it upside down, and only a few drops spilled out.

He sighed. "Why is the rum always gone?"

"Because pirates are drunkards," Almyra said as she walked inside the quarters to check on Jack. "Including you. I believe you've had enough for the night."

He shook his head. "That, my little siren, I must disagree with."

She rolled her eyes as Jack got up and staggered over to the globe that he used to hold his hat. She walked over to him and steadied him gently. "Jack, no more. Just rest, will you?"

"I will with more rum," he promised, kissing her briefly before he moved from her arms and out the door.

She rolled her eyes again. "Pirates," she said with a sigh, moving to look at the maps and his compass.

She was careful not to touch it because the thing she desired most was to figure out what was making Jack act even more off-kilter. She assumed it wasn't the same thing he was searching for.

* * *

Jack walked below deck, past where the majority of the crew—all but his Myra, it seemed—were fast asleep.

"As you were, gents," he said quietly, waving a softly glowing lantern past to reveal them momentarily.

He stepped down into the hold, where he heard the bleating of a goat as he unlocked the door and trotted inside. He moved toward a rack of bottles after shining his lantern at a group of rather eerie filter feeding creatures that had gathered on a diagonal beam of wood that crossed with others, creating a diamond shape.

"Ah!" Jack exclaimed quietly, pulling a bottle from the rack, but frowning as he dumped sand from the bottle.

"Time's run out, Jack," a gruff male voice said from a dark corner opposite him.

Jack dropped the bottle in his fright, and it shattered on the floor. He turned with his lantern and cautiously moved toward the origin of the voice.

Jack was, needless to say, shocked when he saw who had spoken. "Bootstrap. Bill Turner."

Bootstrap looked up at Jack.

Jack swallowed hard. "Is this a dream?"

Bill Turner looked around almost curiously before he answered. "No."

Jack sighed. "I thought not. If it were there'd be rum."

Bootstrap held up a barnacle crusted bottle in offering to Jack.

Jack pried the bottle from his hand.

"So you got _the Pearl_ back I see," Bootstrap said as he looked around. "Did you get Al back as well?"

"I did." Jack brushed off the lip of the bottle with his fingers before taking a swig. "I had some help retrieving _the Pearl_ and my Myra, by the way. Your son."

"William?" Bootstrap asked in shock. "So he became a pirate after all."

Jack only shrugged slightly, handing the bottle back to Bootstrap. "So what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?"

"He sent me," Bootstrap said simply, looking at Jack with almost hollow eyes. "Davy Jones."

The air seemed to drop ten degrees in that moment.

"Ah," Jack said, taking the rum bottle back. "So he shanghaied you into service, did he?"

"I chose it," Bootstrap said quickly. "I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack. I spoke out against it after, and you know what they did? They strapped me to a cannon and tossed me into the sea. The weight of the water was crushing down on me—unable to move, but unable to die."

"Funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgement, isn't it?" Jack asked after a disgusted display of movement of his mouth and tongue when watching Bootstrap eat a live hermit crab straight from the shell.

"You made a deal with him, too, Jack," Bootstrap said, suddenly on his feet in front of Jack to keep him from leaving. "Thirteen years you've been captain of _the Black Pearl_ for a hundred years of service aboard _the Dutchman_."

"Technic—"

"You can't talk your way out of this one, Jack."

"Yes, but _the Flying Dutchman_ already has a captain," Jack pointed out.

"Then it's the locker for you," Bootstrap almost thundered.

Jack cowered slightly. "Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?"

Bootstrap pressed his fingers into Jack's palm. "He already has. The kraken hunts relentlessly for the man who bears the black spot."

Jack looked at his left palm, where the ugly spot was growing, and looked back up in panic.

Bootstrap was gone.


	5. Chapter Four

Jack ran through the lower decks where the crew slept with his lantern out, shouting and ordering them around.

"On deck all hands!" He shouted, frightening most of the men from their hammocks and into movement before Jack ran to the upper deck again. "Make fast the bunt gasket! On deck! Scurry! I want movement!"

Almyra woke at the sound of the commotion, stepping out in confusion as she pulled a vest on over her blousy shirt.

"Lift the skin up!" Gibbs ordered as he rushed around with the other pirates.

Jack was still rushing around the deck in a panic, shouting orders. "All on deck! Run! And keep running! Run as if the devil himself and itself is upon us!"

Almyra stepped out to find Jack hiding behind the base of the mast, and she raised an eyebrow, waving away Gibbs who was about to question him.

"I'll get you your answers, Mister Gibbs, just keep the men in check."

"Aye, Miss James." Gibbs left to keep _the Pearl_ sailing smooth.

"Jack," She asked, turning around the base of the mast to look at the pirate captain. "What's our heading?"

"Ah!" He almost yelped in surprise. "Ooh, run! Land!"

Almyra looked at him in concern, taking his hand carefully.

He yelped again. "Ooh!"

"Which port?" She asked softly.

"Didn't say port," Jack said quickly, "said land. Any land."

Almyra raised an eyebrow and turned to the crew. "Set course for the nearest speck of land you can find."

"Pardon?" Gibbs asked, blinking in shock.

"Captain's orders," she said simply.

Gibbs hesitated before turning the order to the crew.

Almyra waited a second for him to be far enough away before she turned back towards Jack, his hand still linked with her's as he shifted anxiously.

"Jack, what's happened?" She asked softly, knowing that no matter how mad he might be he wouldn't land without a heading. And never in the middle of the night.

He shook his head quickly, almost as though he were panicking. "Nothing. Everything's fine."

As if on cue, Jack the monkey swung down and snatched Jack's hat from his head.

The monkey snarled as Jack whirled on him, and Jack snarled back. Then the beast tossed his hat overboard.

"Jack's hat!" Almyra called, rushing over to the side of the deck to see where the leather headwear floated.

"Turn her about!" Gibbs called so they could retrieve it.

"No, no!" Jack called in a panic, his movements jerky and strained as he refrained from moving toward the edge. "Leave it!"

The entirety of the crew—Almyra included—turned to look at him in shock.

"Run," he said in a simple tone as he turned and trotted over to hide behind the stairs that lead up to the helm.

"You heard him," Almyra called, "back to your stations! All of you! Put some wind in your sails, boys, c'mon!"

She walked over to Jack, one hand hanging on the stairs above to help herself turn sharply and look at the captain. "Jack?"

"Shh!" He hissed quietly at her.

Almyra was caught off guard. Of all the things Jack Sparrow had done, telling her to shut up in any manner had never been one of them.

"Dammit, Sparrow, will you tell me what's going on or not?" She finally snapped, completely fed up with him hiding things from her—something he hadn't done once before. "What in the name of God and his angels is coming after us?"

He looked at her for a moment, his dark eyes alight with surprise at her sudden harsh tone.

"Nothing," he lied, repeating his former line.

Her blue-green eyes suddenly flooded with betrayal at his obvious lies. "In that case, Captain Sparrow, I think I'll stay with the crew tonight. It seems as though you need to spend some quality time with your rum stash."


	6. Chapter Five

Jack sat before the cannibalistic tribe on the throne of the chief, his face painted with multiple eyes, even a pair resting over his eyelids as drums beat and the natives chanted. He hated what he had to do, sending his crew to be imprisoned—his Myra included. He wanted to keep her by his side, and he was sure that if he had ordered them not to take her, they wouldn't have. At the same time, he knew that the only chance the crew had to get out and get back to _the Pearl_ is if she found them some miraculous way to escape.

He cursed himself quietly. She had to be with the rest of the crew. He knew he made the right decision, but it hadn't been the easy one. He hated doing the right thing when the easy one made him happier.

The drums stopped and the chanting ceased as a few of the natives brought a new prisoner up for Jack to decide what to do with.

Jack opened his eyes to see what they had brought him, his expression unchanging as he recognized an unconscious William Turner.

"Jack?" The young man asked in a groggy tone as he slowly opened his eyes. When he was sure that is was indeed Jack, his tone became much lighter, almost more hopeful. "Jack Sparrow! I can honestly say I'm glad to see you!"

Jack didn't say anything, only rose from his throne and moved toward Will, starting to prod at him with a jabbing finger, as if were inspecting him.

"Jack?" Will's voice was a little more uncertain this time. "It's me! Will Turner!"

Jack turned toward the island's native people. "Wa-say kohn? Een dah-lah. Eeseepi." He was speaking in some unknown language, something that Will had never heard anything similar to before.

The crowd seemed to understand, as they replied with, "Eeseepi."

"Tell them to let me down," Will called, his brown eyes wide with confusion.

Jack ignored his plea, turning back to the crowd to explain something. "Kay-lay lam. Lam piki-piki. Lam eensy weensy. Lam say-say… eunuchy. Snip-snip."

The crowd of cannibals nodded in agreement and made noises of understanding.

Jack turned to walked back toward his throne, almost like he was uninterested, but Will saw what he had come for.

"Jack!" Will tried again. "The compass! That's all I need. Elizabeth is in danger. We were arrested for trying to help you. She faces the gallows!"

Jack paused for a moment before swiveling almost dramatically on his heels before he strolled back toward Will in a casual manner. He spoke in the strange native language. "Say-say lam shoop-shoop sha smalay-lama shoo-koo. Savvy? Ball licky-licky."

The crowd of cannibals replied with a cry of, "Ball licky-licky!"

As they moved to lift the restraints holding Will again, Jack knelt down and whispered to him urgently. "Get Myra and the crew! Save me!"

"Jack, what did you tell them?" Will asked urgently. "No! What about Elizabeth? Jack!"

Jack sat on the throne again as drums banged around him and the natives danced strangely to the beat of them.

One of the cannibals slips a necklace of toes around the neck of their chief.

"Thank you," Jack muttered, biting the nails off one of the toes to trim it before spitting the nail out of his mouth. He disgusted himself for a moment with that action.


	7. Chapter Six

Almyra was desperately trying to think of a way out, a way to help Jack, but they were trapped in large spherical cages made of bones, with half of the surviving crew of _the Black Pearl_ in each.

After Will was tossed inside with herself, Gibbs, Cotton, Marty, and one other crew member, and he gave her the message that Jack needed saving, her mind spun even faster to try to find an answer—a way out.

"Why would Jack do this to us?" Will almost demanded. "If he's their chief."

"Aye, the Pelegostos made Jack their chief," Gibbs explained, "but he only remains chief as long as he _acts_ like a chief."

"So he had no choice," Will said quietly. "Even with Almyra. He's as much of a captive as the rest of us."

"Worse," Almyra said coldly, still trying to figure a way out before she looked at Will with fiercely determined blue-green eyes. "The Pelegostos think Jack is a god trapped in human form, and they want to _honor_ him by releasing him from his prison of human flesh."

Will looked confused for a moment, at least until Cotton grabbed Gibbs's fingers and latched on with his teeth.

Gibbs let out a strangled yelping sound before jerking his hand away. "They'll roast him, and eat him."

"Where's the rest of the crew?" Will asked in concern.

Almyra laughed humorlessly. "There cages weren't built until after we got here."

Will quickly let go of where he was gripping the bone cage.

Almyra listened to the echo of the beating drums, which made her heart hammer all the faster against her chest and her eyes widen. She had to figure a way out.

"The feast is about to begin," Gibbs said quietly. "Jack's life will end... when the drums stop."

"Well, we can't just sit here and wait the, can we?" Will asked quickly. "Al, do you have any ideas?"

Almyra looked at him. "Yeah, I've got one, but if it bloody doesn't work we'll be seeing Jack in the afterlife—whether it's heaven or hell, I don't know."

Will nodded. "It's our best shot."

She nodded in reply. "That's what I was afraid of." Almyra raised her voice to speak to the half of the crew in the second cage. "Swing the cages. If we can get them to the side of the cliff, we can grab ahold of vines and climb up. Once we're out of the chasm, then we can figure out how to break the bones holding us inside."

Will nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a plan made by Jack himself."

Almyra raised a light eyebrow at him. "If Jack ever planned something, then maybe so. If Jack has a plan, odds are I helped him figure it out. Otherwise he's only improvising."

Will snorted. "Now that sounds like a true statement."

The angles they swung at got wider every time, but none of them had yet been close enough to reach the cliff's siding.

"Again!" Almyra ordered, leaning to the other side of the cage, every crew member following before she thrust herself forward, and each crewman likewise copied.

They scraped the side of the wall, close enough to pull free weak vines, but not to hang on.

"One more time, boys, c'mon!" Almyra called, throwing herself forward so each of her crewmates could follow. She and Will were the first two to grab sturdy vines, but they couldn't hold the cageful of men on their own. Gibbs and the others scrambled for vines of their own to grab onto, all but Marty, who was too short to reach.

Once they were all sturdy, Gibbs called, "Put your legs through, men, start to climb!"

The started to move up the chasm. It was awkward and quickly exhausting, but they were on their way up, and that was a start.

"Come on, men!" Will called, trying to motivate them. "It'll take all of us to crew _the Black Pearl_!"

"Actually, you won't need everyone," Leech called, apparently not thinking as he spoke. "Only about six would do!"

Both cages paused, and he seemed to realize his mistake. "Oh, dear…"

"All hands," Almyra called, "up faster! Climb as though your mother's life depended on it, men! We must reach _the Pearl_. Give it everything you have!"

They climbed all the faster, at least until Almyra and WIll gave quiet, but urgent orders for them to stop moving as one of the Pelegostos moved overhead on their rope bridge across the chasm.

The second cage paused for a moment as well, but Leech saw fit for them to try to slip forward unnoticed, to press an advantage against the other crew members but continuing on.

"Stop!" Will called in an urgent whisper.

Leech looked at him with an arrogant smile, turning back as he reach to grab a vine and instead pulled out a coral snake. He panicked, drawing the attention of the native, and causing his portion of the crew to mimic his actions.

They dropped their vines and plummeted back down, the force of their fall snapping the thick rope of vines that held their cage in place.

The Pelegosto cannibal had seen them, and Almyra realized how useless it was for them to stay in one place.

"Move, you blasted fools!" Almyra called sharply. "They've seen us now. Our only hope is to reach the top and free ourselves of this damned cage."

They climbed as quickly as they could, as quickly as they had when they were racing the other cage to the top.

The bone cage rolled into place, and each pirate inside the cage slumped in exhaustion, though they didn't have long to catch their breath. The natives would be on their way to stop them soon, but they drums were still beating with the majority of the tribe, and that told Almyra the only thing that mattered to her—Jack was alive.

"Cut it loose!" Will called quickly. "Find a rock!"

After a string of beatings and whalings on it, Will managed to sever the cable that held the spherical bone cage over the chasm.

Almyra attempted to beat the cage, to break the bones with a rock, but failed in every attempt before the cannibals rushed forward to stop them, and most likely kill the pirate crew on sight.

"Roll the cage!" Will called quickly, and the crew pushed forward.

The cage tumbled down the hill, which caused Almyra to gain multiple painful bumps and bruises as the crew tumbled and bounced against her.

The whole crew cried out in shock and pain as the cage dropped down a short cliff, and they bounced once before rolling again. The cage rolled itself up the trunk of a coconut palm tree before dropping to the ground, the whole crew groaning in pain, including Almyra.

She was the first back to her feet, Will only moments behind her as they heard the Pelegostos rushing forward.

"Lift the cage!" Will ordered frantically. "Hurry!"

"Come on, men!" Gibbs tried, grabbing the bones that their straddled over. "Lift it like a lady's skirt!"

Almyra rolled her eyes in disgust.

The cage was lifted around all of their legs, the rushing motion of their legs and the uneven speeds making the attempt of escape rough and ragged, but they were moving.

"Come on!" Almyra snapped.

They rushed on, the arrows and spears that reached them luckily bouncing off the cage's bone structure.

The cage suddenly tumbled over a ledge, sending the crew tumbling into a chasm, where the bone cage finally snapped.

Almyra groaned lowly as she pushed herself up, soaked by the river they landed in.

"Follow the river out!" She ordered the crew, making sure each of them dove to safety and swam out before she followed.

She cursed herself as she plunged under the water. There was no way she could make it back to help Jack now.

The crew rushed back to _the Pearl_ , and Almyra raised an eyebrow as she noticed Pintel and Ragetti arguing as they readied the large ship for open water.

"Excellent work!" Gibbs praised as the crew climbed aboard. "Work's half done!"

"We done it for you!" Pintel promised cheekily as Almyra took the rope in her hand and climbed to the deck to give orders as she should've. "Knowin' you'd be comin' back for us."

"Make ready to sail, boys!" Almyra called.

"What about Jack?" Will asked in shock. "I won't leave without him."

Almyra looked at Will and raised an eyebrow. "Neither will I. That's why I haven't given the order to cast off."

"Hey!" A dim voice moving down the beach called.

Jack was rushing down the beach, kicking up sand as he bolted toward the Black Pearl.

"Jack!" Almyra called in relief.

The following tribe of Pelegostos rushed down the beach behind the captain.

Almyra gasped.

"Time to go," Will said quickly, rushing over to help the crew.

"Cast off those lines!" Almyra shouted across the ship. "Make ready to cast off, but if you do so before my order I swear on all that is graced by God I will toss you off this ship."

Jack leapt onto the rigging on the side of the ship.

"Cast off now!" Almyra called, and the Pearl pushed into the water.

"Alas, my children!" Jack called to the cannibals. "This is the day you shall always remember as that day that you almost—"

A huge wave splashed up the side of the ship, soaking Jack and cutting off his short speech.

"...Captain Jack… Sparrow."

Almyra smiled in humor.


	8. Chapter Seven

Once Jack was aboard the _Pearl_ , Almyra slapped him across the face so hard it knocked the captain off balance, catching himself on the ship's siding.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again," Almyra ordered sharply. "You almost died because you tossed me into a cage with the rest of the crew!"

Jack had the gall to smile after his initial shock at the blow. "That I did, love."

Almyra raised an eyebrow, looking ready to swing again, much to Will's amusement.

"But," Jack continued quickly, "only because I knew that having you with the crew would be the only way to free them from such a dismal fate, and so we'd be able to cast off from this bloody island."

Almyra raised an eyebrow again, humming consideringly before she tossed Jack a dry coat. "Put that on."

He smiled, pulling her close and kissing her briefly. "I am sorry I caused you distress, my siren."

She looked at him for a moment, almost thoughtfully. "I'm not quite sure if you're forgiven or not. I might need more convincing."

Jack smirked. "And what might that entail?"

Almyra smirked in reply. "Nothing that can be done on this deck."

"Anything's possible, love."

"Captain," Gibbs interrupted before the two could flirt any further. "Let's put some distance between us and this island, and head out to open sea."

"Yes to the first, yes to the second," Jack said, nodding quickly as he looked to the second mate. "But only insofar as we keep to the shallows as much as possible."

Gibbs blinked in confusion. "That seems a bit contradictory, Captain."

Jack looked at him, starting to get frustrated at the interruption as Almyra stepped toward the helm. "I have every faith in your reconciliatory navigational skills, Master Gibbs. Now, where is that monkey? I want to shoot something."

Jack the monkey chattered annoyingly and scampered up the rigging.

Jack aimed his pistol toward the undead beast.

"Jack," Will interrupted before the captain could get the shot off.

"Ah," Jack said, whirling to look at the blacksmith-turned-pirate.

"Elizabeth is in danger," Will told him as Jack walked toward the helm to stand by Almyra again.

"Have you considered keeping a more watchful eye on 'er?" Jack asked bluntly, flicking Almyra's blonde hair back from her face gently as he strode by. "Maybe just lock her up somewhere."

"She is locked up," Will snapped, dancing around Almyra when Jack moved to stand on the first mate's other side. "In a prison, bound to hang for helping you!"

Almyra raised an eyebrow at Will as Jack replied. "There comes a time when one must take responsibility for one's mistakes."

Will yanked a sword free from the sheath on another pirate's belt and pointed it toward the captain, maneuvering the blade so it didn't point at Almyra by mistake. "I need that compass of yours, Jack. I must trade it for her freedom."

Almyra turned toward Jack and spoke in a whisper that Will couldn't hear. "Trade him," she said urgently in her soft tone. "Trade your compass for the key. Send him after it. You must have it, Jack. Don't trade that compass until you have the key in your hand."

Jack smirked at Almyra. "Clever, my little siren," he said in the same tone as she did, just lacking all of the urgency. "I never thought you'd have it in you to risk a friend."

"There isn't much I wouldn't risk for you, Jack Sparrow," Almyra confirmed.

"And I for you, love," Jack told her before she stepped away from the sword blade still pointed at Jack during their quick conversation that Will assumed was Almyra talking Jack into handing over the compass.

Jack pushed Will's sword out of his face. "Myra."

"Captain," Almyra answered simply.

"We have a need to travel upriver."

"Aye." She turned the ship in a ready direction.

Gibbs gulped nervously from beside Almyra. "By need," he asked quickly, "d'you mean a… trifling need, uh, a… fleeting, as in say a passing fancy?"

"No," Jack answered without moving his gaze from Will and his defensive look. "A… resolute and unyielding need."

"What we need to do is make sail for Port Royal with all haste," Will snapped as he followed Jack around the deck.

"William," Jack said, pulling the cloth with the drawing of the key from his pocket. "I shall trade you the compass if you will help me..." He unfolded the dirty cloth to reveal the two-pronged key. "...to find this."

Will looked at him in confusion. "You want me to find this?"

"No," Jack said simply. "You want you to find this. Because the finding of this finds you incapacitorially finding and/or locating the detecting of a way to save your dolly-dotty belle ol'... what's-her-face. Savvy?"

Will blinked at him in shock. "This is going to save Elizabeth?"

Jack looked at him seriously. "How much do you know about Davy Jones?"

Will shrugged a little, shaking his head. "Not much."

"Yeah," Jack answered simply, "it's gonna save Elizabeth." He left Will to stand there and contemplate the deal while he slid back to Almyra's side.

"Do you think he'll take the bait?" He murmured from beside her.

Almyra looked at him with a blonde eyebrow raised, her blue-green eye sharp. "Wouldn't you if it were me facing what she was?"

"In a heartbeat."


	9. Chapter Eight

Jack helped Almyra into the first longboat as any gentleman would while the second half of the crew loaded into the other longboat behind the first, though Jack and Almyra wished they had the boat to themselves.

"Are you sure Tia Dalma can help, Jack?" Almyra asked softly, her hand in his as he looked down the swampy river ahead of them.

"If she can't, I don't know who can," Jack said quietly, looking back to her with a reassuring smile. He kissed the top of her head, his lips pressing softly against the blue bandana that covered her blonde beach waves. "Everything is going to be fine. I give you my word."

She pressed her fingers against the cloth on his left hand. "This better not be the first time you break a promise to me, Jack Sparrow."

Jack nimbly slid down the longboat without rocking it, kneeling before her with his hand still in hers. "I swear to you, Myra, I will do everything I can to prevent this fate. I don't want to die, and even more than that, I don't want to leave you. And I seal this promise with a kiss." He lifted her hand with a flourish and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Despite the dramatics, his voice was tender and his kohl lined dark eyes were sincere.

Almyra slid her hand gently around the back of Jack's neck to tug him closer, their foreheads pressed against one another and both of their eyes closed.

* * *

Will looked at Gibbs and the others of the crew in the second longboat. "Why is Jack afraid of the open ocean?"

"Well," Gibbs began to explain, "if you believe such things, there's a beast that does the bidding of Davy Jones. A fearsome creature with giant tentacles that can suction you face clean off, and drag an entire ship past the crushing darkness. The Kraken!"

Marty turned in their direction at the ominous name, and Pintel and Ragetti looked at one another nervously.

Gibbs's explanation continued on in depth. "They say the stench of its breath is like—ooh! Imagine: The last thing you know on God's green earth is the roar of the Kraken, and the reeking odor of a thousand rotting corpses. If you believe such things."

Will swallowed and paused for a moment. When he finally spoke again, it was quieter than before. "And the key will spare him that?"

"Now that's the very question Jack wants answered," Gibbs told him simply. "Bad enough even to go visit… _her_."

Will looked up warily. "Her?"

Gibbs's only answer was a short affirmative, "Aye."

* * *

Tia Dalma's shack floated into view. The bayou was glowing with spots of fireflies, and an iguana lounged on a twisting tree branch. The iguana's tongue shot out and snatched a firefly out of the air. As the longboats docked, people were visible through the trees, peeking through the darkness.

Jack stood up and turned toward the two boats, addressing the crew with his regular swagger returned. "No worries, mates. Tia Dalma and I go way back. Thick as thieves we are. Were. Have been."

Gibbs clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I'll watch your back."

Jack looked at him warily. "It's me front I'm worried about."

Almyra took his hand again. "I've got that part."

He smiled and looked back to the crew. "Mind the boat."

"Mind the boat," Gibbs ordered Will.

"Mind the boat," Will repeated to Pintel.

"Mind the boat," Pintel told Ragetti.

"Mind the boat," Ragetti said to Marty.

"Mind the boat," Marty finished off by speaking to Cotton.

Poor Cotton couldn't tell anyone, and even his bird squawked, "Mind the boat!" and left him there.

Jack stepped forward cautiously, slowly pushing open the door to Tia Dalma's shack.

Almyra glanced around as she stepped in just behind Jack. It didn't look so much different than the last time she had been inside, and that was a very long time ago, when she was with Jack as part of his crew on the _Pearl_ , when he had first gotten his compass that never pointed north. A live snake hung inside the shack, moving slowly where it had been wrapped. Tia was sitting behind a table, focused on her crab claws until she heard the movement, and looked up.

She smiled when she spotted Jack and Almyra in the doorway. "Jack Sparrow, and his love! I always know de wind was goin' blow you two back togeda one day, and den it blowed you two back to me!"

"You're always right, Tia," Almyra said with a smile as the bayou witch took her hand and smiled. "We never should have doubted you."

"No, you shouldn't have," Tia confirmed with another smile. "But now dat your curse is long gone, I find your touch of destiny for de second time, but it is a different touch dan before. No longa a cursed fate, but a heavy one all da same."

Almyra raised an eyebrow. "We may have to discuss that sometime."

Tia flicked at her pocket, where Jack's Piece of Eight rested as a comfortable intrusion. "I dink you know what it is." Her attention flicked over to Will as he, Gibbs, and the rest of the crew that joined them inside slowly filed in.

"You," Tia Dalma said as she walked up to Will. "You have a touch of… destiny about _you_ , William Turner."

Will looked at her in shock for a moment. "You know me?"

Tia smirked playfully. "You want to know _me_?"

That was when Jack jumped in. "They'll be no knowing here. We've come for help, and we're not leaving without it."

He led Tia Dalma away with an arm draped over her shoulders. "I thought I knew you."

"Not as well as I had hoped," Tia said simply, slipping from his grip and moving forward with a motion to the pirates filling the shack. "Come."

Jack turned to the crew and repeated her command. "Come."

Tia sat behind her table again, looking at all of the pirates standing before her. "What… service… may I do you? Hmmm?" She turned her dark eyes on Jack. "You know I demand payment."

"I brought payment," Jack said, almost like a proud toddler, which made Almyra roll her eyes. Jack whistled and a crewmember brought forward Jack the monkey, locked in a birdcage.

"Look!" Jack said, once again, proudly. He cocked his flintlock and shot the beast, but it has no effect. The monkey chattered loudly, frightened. "An undead monkey! Top that!"

Tia reached over and lifted the cage door, allowing the monkey to leap to freedom.

"No!" Gibbs called, trying and failing to stop her. He sighed. "You've no idea how long it took us to catch that."

Tia only shrugged, ignoring Gibbs's complaint. "The payment is fair."

Jack pulled the cloth drawing from his pocket and unfolded it, revealing the picture to Tia Dalma. "We're looking for this. And what it goes to."

Tia Dalma looked up and him with a furrowed brow. "The compass you bartered from me. It cannot lead you to dis?"

Jack turned defensive. "Maybe. Why?"

Tia grinned, amused. "Ayeeee… Jack Sparrow do not know what he wants! Or do know, but are loathe to claim it as your own." She looked at Almyra when she continued, knowing it was just as much her mission to find the key and chest to save Jack. "Your key go to a chest, and it is what lay inside the chest you seek, don't it?"

"What is inside?" Gibbs blurted hopefully.

"Gold!" Pintel called quickly. "Jewels? Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature?"

"Nothing… bad, I hope," Ragetti said quietly. He glanced at a jar of eyeballs that swayed gently nearby his head.

She looked over the questioning crew, seeing through Almyra's stoic expression to the concern for Jack that nestled just beneath the surface.

Jack noticed and took Almyra's hand in his own.

A smile ghosted Tia's lips before she spoke again. "You know of… Davy Jones, yes? A man of de sea. A great sailor, until he ran afoul of dat which vex all men."

Will looked up curiously. "What vexes all men?"

Tia grinned. "What, indeed."

"The sea?" Gibbs guessed suddenly.

"Sums!" Pintel corrected in a sure tone.

"The dichotomy of good and evil," Ragetti tried.

Almyra chuckled a little at that one. She didn't realize that anyone in the crew knew what the word "dichotomy" even meant, and Ragetti wouldn't have been in her top guesses.

Jack rolled his eyes. "A woman." It was obvious he knew what vexed all men. The woman that vexed him stood beside him and held his cloth-wrapped hand.

Tia grinned again. "A _wo-man_. He fell in love."

"No-no-no-no," Gibbs argued quickly. "I heard it was the _sea_ he fell in love with."

"Same story, different version," Tia Dalma corrected firmly, "and all are true. See, it was a woman, as changing, and harsh, and untamable as the sea. Much like your own woman, Jack—untamable."

Almyra blushed slightly.

Jack smiled proudly.

Tia continued her tale. "Him never stopped loving her. But the pain it cause 'im was too much to live wid. But not enough to cause him to die."

Will looked at Tia Dalma warily. "What… exactly did he put into the chest?"

Tia pressed a hand to the center of her chest. "Him heart."

Almyra stiffened slightly. Finally they knew for sure a way to save Jack, but… she didn't know what price there would be to pay, and who would have to pay it.

"Literally, or figuratively?" Ragetti asked quietly, trying to make sense of it all.

"He couldn't li'erally put his heart in a chest!" Pintel protested. He hesitated and looked at Tia Dalma. "Could he?"

She shook her head slightly. "It was not wort' feeling what… small fleeting joy life brings, and so… he carved out him heart, lock it away in a chest, and hide de chest from de world. De keys, he keep wid him at all times."

Will stood up and moved toward Jack, standing before him confrontationally. "You knew this."

"I did not," Jack argued simply. "I didn't know where the key was, but now we do. So all that's left is for you to climb aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ , grab the key, you go back to Port Royal, and save your bonnie lass, hey!"

Almyra snorted. "Sounds simple."

Will frowned at her facetious attitude. He still never would've guessed that it had been her idea that he had to retrieve the key for Jack.

Tia Dalma stood up and stepped toward Jack, holding out a hand. "Let me see your hand."

Jack held up his right hand, showing that it was untouched.

Tia nudged Almyra's hand free from his left, and she tugged his hand forward, unwrapping the bandage to reveal the black spot to the crew.

Almyra flinched at the sight.

Gibbs gasped. "The black spot!" He rapidly wiped his hands down his chest, spun once to the left, and he spit on the floor.

Pintel and Ragetti repeated the panicked statement and then repeated Gibbs's superstitious dance in complete synchronization.

Almyra lifted her chin in revulsion at their reaction, furiously upset by how they suddenly had to ward themselves from Jack.

"My eyesight's as good as ever, just so you know," Jack told them quickly.

Tia was talking to herself as she slid past a beaded doorway into the back room, searching for something.

Jack slipped a ring off of Tia's table, and resting beside the ring was a oddly designed silver locket.

Almyra nudged Jack in the ribcage, probably harder than necessary, to get him to lay it back down.

Jack huffed and put it down, rubbing his ribcage.

Tia slipped back out from her back room with a large jar and an explanation. "Davy Jones cannot make port. Cannot step on land but once every ten years. Land is where you are safe, Jack Sparrow. And so you will carry land with you." She handed Jack the jar, which was filled with dirt.

Jack looked at it for a long moment as he took the jar from Tia. "Dirt. This is a jar of dirt."

"Yes?" She said, wondering why he was questioning.

"Is the… jar of dirt going to help?"

Tia frowned. "If you don't want it, give it back."

"No!" Jack pulled the jar close to his chest almost protectively.

Tia smirked slightly. "Den it helps."

Will took a deep breath. "It seems… we have a need to find the _Flying Dutchman_."

The bayou witch sat back down behind her table, pulling several crab claws and shells into her cupped hands, closing her eyes "A touch… of destiny!" She tossed the crab claws down to see how they fell.

Almyra took a deep breath. They had their answer.


	10. Chapter Nine

The crew of the Black Pearl stood on the deck in the pouring rain, the anchor dropped to halt the ship as they looked out to the rocky outcropping from the sea where a scuttled ship was trapped.

Almyra stood beside Jack and will, sandy hair plastered to her face and neck as the rain soaked every sailor to the bone. Her folded blue bandana had darkened from its sunbleached color.

Lightning flashed above them, and Jack took the short opportunity to glimpse at how the sudden white flash highlighted every soft curve and hidden scar in the features of Almyra's face. He had never known another woman to look so goddess-like, even with Myra never beautifying herself with powder and kohl lining her blue-green eyes. She held herself in esteem, never caring what others thought as Almyra James became one of the most well-known and widely feared pirates of all—after all, women were supposed to be bad luck at sea. He was proud to call the most beautiful and intelligent woman sailing the Caribbean, or possibly the world, his own.

"That's the _Flying Dutchman_?" Will asked over the sounds of rain and thunder and rough waves pounding against the ship. "She doesn't look like much."

"Neither do you," Jack pointed out quickly. "Do not underestimate her."

Jack glanced back at Almyra, whose blue-green eyes, darkened by the rain and night sky, flicked back to him knowingly. This wasn't the _Flying Dutchman_ , but she knew very well that it wouldn't take long for her to arrive.

The captain knew he would get no help lying from Almyra, so he nudged Gibbs, who was standing just behind them, with his elbow.

"Must've run afoul of the reef," Gibbs said suddenly.

Jack turned back to Will. "So what's your plan, then?"

Will rolled his eyes. "I row over, search the ship until I find your bloody key."

"And if there's crewman?" Jack asked.

"I cut down anyone in my path."

Jack nodded slightly. "I like it. Simple, easy to remember."

Almyra nudged Jack with her elbow as Will walked off. "You're forgetting something, darling."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I am?"

"What if he gets caught? Then you don't get your key."

"Oh!" Jack rushed over to the side of ship just after Will's boat splashed in the water, almost unheard beneath the storm. "Hey! If you do happen to get captured, just say Jack Sparrow sent you to settle his debt! Might save your life!"

Ragetti yelled a taunting goodbye to him as Will rowed off.

Jack turned to Almyra and Gibbs to give an order. "Douse the lamps."

The crew obeyed quickly, and the ship was suddenly, completely, pitch black in darkness.

* * *

Jack watched Will move across the dilapidated ship through his spyglass in the darkness, Almyra waiting by his side and watching with keen blue-green eyes that noticed more than anyone else.

"How long do you think it will take him to realize that your wrecked ship isn't the _Flying Dutchman_?" She asked quietly, the rain still pounding against the deck of the ship.

"Just long enough, Myra," Jack said in the same muted tone. "By the time he realizes it, the real _Dutchman_ should be here to collect more souls for the crew."

Almyra nodded slowly. "And most likely add young Mister Turner to the mix."

"Only if he doesn't get the key."

"He won't," Almyra said simply. "Not yet. He'll have to be smart about every move he makes. You know as well as I do that cutting down everyone in his path will get him nowhere, even if he reaches Davy Jones. Jones is an almost unmatched swordsman. Will may be good, but he can't kill Jones. No one can without the heart."

"I wonder if you could chop his head off," Jack said quietly, curiosity piquing in his voice.

"I'm sure Will will try it given the opportunity."

Jack chuckled quietly. "Aye, love. That, I'll agree with."

He looked back through his spyglass, and froze for a moment as lightning flashed.

Davy Jones had looked right at him.

Suddenly, Jones appeared in front of Jack, the crew of the _Dutchman_ surrounding the crew of the Pearl and holding them at knifepoint.

Almyra was hauled backward, a blade suddenly pressed stiffly into her throat to stop her struggling against the slimy creature.

"Oh," was all Jack could manage, unable to look away from Davy Jones to see the woman he loved in danger.

"You have a debt to pay," Jones snarled as he stepped closer to Jack. "You've been captain of the _Black Pearl_ for thirteen years. That was our agreement."

Jack stepped back, starting to argue his point. "Technically, I was only captain for two years, then I was viciously mutinied upon. Tell him, Myra—" He cut himself off mid-statement when he looked to his love and saw her standing there with a knife to her throat. "Myra?!"

Davy Jones snatched Jack's face and turned him back around with a crab-claw that was once a hand. "Then you were a poor captain, but a captain nonetheless! Have you not introduced yourself all these years as Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack swallowed nervously as he forced himself not to look back to Almyra. "You have my payment. One soul to serve on your ship is already over there."

"One soul is not equal to another," Jones snarled.

"Aha!" Jack said quickly. "So we've established my proposal is sound in principle, now we're just haggling over a price."

"Price?" Jones scoffed.

Jack leaned forward a little, trying to prance his way a little closer to Almyra. "Just how many souls do you think my soul is worth?"

Davy Jones thought for a moment. "One-hundred souls. Three days." The captain noticed Jack's anxious movements toward Almyra, and he smiled cruelly. "Or I take the woman, and you go free. I can do you a favor, Sparrow, and free you from the dreadful bond of love."

"No!" Jack said quickly. "One-hundred souls. Send the boy back, and we'll get started right off."

"I keep the boy," Jones snapped, "a good-faith payment. That leaves you only ninety-nine more to go. Unless you'd rather I relieve you of the burden of your first mate…"

"No, no!" Jack said quickly. "She's no burden. Quite helpful, actually, despite the women on the sea curse rubbish."

Jones and the crew started laughing. "Is that so? Maybe I should keep her for my crew's luck."

Almyra gasped as she was pulled backward again.

"No!" Jack called again, even more urgently. He took a deep breath to try and talk his siren free of her bondage. His voice came out much smoother. "Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic, _terrific_ soprano. Worth at least maybe four… three and a half. And did I happen to mention… he's in love. With a girl. Due to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him would only be half as cruel as allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony. Aye?"

Almyra rolled her eyes. She knew how Jack felt about marriage, in fact more often than not she felt the same way—that it was an unnecessary anchor. It was nothing more than a title in which people used to judge others by what they could and could not do. But to her female, romantic pride, it was a stinging remark to hear be said aloud by the man she loved.

Davy Jones almost seemed to consider for a moment. It didn't last long. "I keep the boy. Ninety-nine souls-uh. But I wonder, Sparrow, can you live with this? Can you condemn an innocent man—a friend—to a lifetime of servitude in your name, while you roam free?"

Jack considered for a moment. He wouldn't be living with the plan, Almyra would. It had been her plan, after all.

He glanced to his first mate and lover, knowing she heard Jones, and took a quick inspection of the determined gleam in her eyes and firm set to her jaw. He had his answer.

"Yep," Jack said when he looked back to Jones. "I'm good with it. Should we seal it in blood? I mean… er, ink?"

Jones snatched Jack's hand in tentacled fingers, and a squishing sound echoed over the ship.

Almyra was repulsed.

Jack made a noise of disgust.

"Three days," Jones swore. "Three days."

The cursed Captain let go of Jack's hand, and, though it was covered in slime, the black spot faded away.

Jones and his crew had disappeared.

Jack looked at Almyra brightly.

She smiled back, rushing to him to grab him in a tight embrace the Captain happily returned. He was safe, at least for now.

"Miss James," Jack said as he let go slowly.

"Aye, Captain?"

"I feel sullied and unusual."

"I suppose you would." She looked him in the dark, kohl lined eyes. "And how do you expect to collect these ninety-nine souls in three days?"

"Fortunately," Jack said with another smile, almost lost in her blue-green eyes. "He failed to mention what state these souls need be in."

Almyra smiled impishly and turned toward the crew. "All hands, make sail for Tortuga!"

Jack smirked. "You know me so well, love."

She flicked Jack's Piece of Eight into the air and caught it in the darkness, none of the other pirates noticing a thing. "Of course I do. Or you wouldn't have given me this."


	11. Chapter Ten

Almyra lounged in a chair beside Gibbs as the quartermaster took bids on drunken sailors willing to join the crew. Her boots were thrown up on the table, and her chair was balancing precariously on its two back legs while she sharpened a knife she kept tucked away in her boot for good measure. She glanced back at Jack, who was trying to make his compass work, sitting within an earshot of the table.

Musicians were playing a guitar and an accordion on the other side of the well, where merry drunken men were dunking one another in the well, and others were shooting glass bottles off people's heads for entertainment.

Almyra looked up when she heard Gibbs ask another potential sailor, "And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the _Black Pearl_?"

The elderly man before them answered in a happy tone around his nearly toothless grin. "Truth be told, I never sailed a day in me life. I figure I should get out and see the world while I'm still young."

"You'll do," Gibbs assured. "Make your mark. Next!"

"I hope the conditions of the hundred souls don't matter," Almyra muttered, examining the blade's sharp edge before she slid it back into the sheath hiding inside her boot. "Else Jones will be sending them all back, and Jack to the Locker in retaliation."

"He wasn't specific," Gibbs said with a shrug. "We just have to hope."

"Indeed." She looked up at the next sailor that trotted toward the table, blue-green eyes darkened in the dim light of the parlor that they were casting marks for souls in.

The next sailor had a truly jilted life. "My wife ran off with my dog. And I'm drunk for a month. And I don't give an ass rat's if I live or die."

"Perfect!" Gibbs called, motioning for the man to mark his new life. "Next!"

"Seems like he's still drunk," Almyra said in amusement.

The next man that appeared only had one arm. "Me have one arm 'n' a bum leg."

Gibbs wasted no time in his decision. "It's the crow's nest for you."

Almyra glanced back at Jack, who was lounging alongside the wall within earshot of the table, trying desperately to make his compass work.

"I know what I want," he swore under his breath, but opened the compass and still had nothing but a spinning needle.

"Next!" Gibbs called, and Almyra turned her attention back to the table.

The next potential sailor was a romantic. "Ever since I was a little lad, I've always wanted to sail the seas. Forever."

Gibbs smiled at the man. "Sooner than you think. Sign the roster."

"Thanks very much," the man said, signing as instructed.

Jack didn't look up from the compass. "How we going?"

"Including those four?" Gibbs asked. "That gives us—four!"

Jack grumbled under his breath before turning back to the compass, and Gibbs back to the line in front of the table.

"And what's _your_ story?"

Almyra gasped when she heard the familiar, deep voice of the man before them, though he didn't look at all like the man that had chased the _Pearl_ across the caribbean. Commodore Norrington.

"My story…" He started slowly. "It's exactly the same as your story, only one chapter behind. I chased a man across the seven seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life."

Gibbs looked at him in shock, speaking in a tone of pure disbelief. "Commodore?"

Norrington's reply was sharp, volatile. "No, not anymore, weren't you _listening_?" He looked at Almyra, the striking first mate that seemed to always foil his plans, and back to Gibbs. "I nearly had you all, off Tripoli. I would have, if not for the… hurricane."

"Lord," Gibbs said in shock. "You didn't try to sail through it?"

"So," Norrington sneered, stumbling slightly, which showed how much he'd really had to drink. "Do I make your crew, or not? You haven't said where you were going. Somewhere _nice_?" He tossed the table before them, causing the loud and boisterous room to fall totally silent. Every eye in the room was on them.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Norrington," Almyra warned, hoping to keep his gaze on her instead of seeing the captain in the corner.

Jack snatched a branch from the nearby vase, placed it in front of his face, and attempted to slip out unseen.

"So am I _worthy_ to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" Norrington demanded, pulling a pistol from his belt and swinging it wide.

Almyra lifted her chin, hoping that it would hold his attention as Jack tried to slip away.

Of course, that would've been far too easy.

Norrington turned, pistol aimed at Jack, who was still failing to hide behind the small plant. "Or should I just kill you now?"

Jack scampered to hide behind a post, ducking back and forth between both sides. Norrington's pistol followed him. The captain smiled at the former navy sailor. "You're hired."

Norrington shrugged slightly, but his flintlock never lowered. "Sorry. Old habits and all that."

A random man from the crowd shouted at Norrington. "Easy, sonny!"

Almyra took the opportunity given by the distraction. She was up from the table in an instant, shoving his arm upward so the pistol no longer pointed at Jack, but instead in the air as Norrington instinctively pulled the trigger.

The small projectile that had been fired ricocheted off the dim chandelier above them and bounced into a man's bottle as he was drinking from it.

And that was how the fighting started.

The man with the broken bottle turned to the man next to him and swung, slugging him. The music started once again, and a brawl between drunkards and pirates of all kinds began. A man was swinging from the chandelier as women fought and bottles were thrown against the walls. And that was only part of the chaos.

Almyra slid back over their toppled table and halted beside Jack, motioning quickly for Gibbs to follow. "Time to go, boys."

"It is indeed, my clever siren," Jack said, looking at her proudly at the distraction she caused. It was some of her greatest work.

They moved quickly, headed for the stairs.

Someone hurled a bottle, and Jack ducked quickly before they continued on.

Gibbs and Almyra were moving up the stairs much quicker than Jack, who was lazily trying on multiple hats on his way up, hoping to replace the one he'd lost.

"Jack!" Almyra called exasperatedly. "We don't have time for this."

He paused as two men moved to throw a third man off of the balcony. "Carry on."

Almyra couldn't tell if he didn't hear her or if he was ignoring her.

After the man was thrown from the balcony, Jack continued on his way, following Almyra and Gibbs as he went on.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Almyra walked on one side of Jack as she, Gibbs, and the captain all made their way back to the _Black Pearl_ from the bar fight they had just escaped. She turned when she caught something out of the corner of her eye, someone running up behind them, someone in male clothing, but the first mate had a feeling that it wasn't quite as it seemed.

"Captain Sparrow!" The figure called, catching Jack's attention as Almyra walked backwards, studying the person following them.

Jack must've just assumed that it was a young boy, because the voice wasn't deep enough to be that of a grown man. "Come to join me crew, lad? Welcome aboard."

Almyra recognized her when she spoke. The voice was familiar enough to ruin the disguise of male clothing. Elizabeth Swann.

Almyra stopped walking, crossing her arms and smiling slightly as she shook her head.

"I'm looking for the man I love."

Jack froze, glancing at Almyra almost nervously. "I'm deeply flattered, son, but as you can plainly see, I'm taken. My first mate here be me first and only love."

Almyra chuckled quietly as Elizabeth rolled her eyes and replied with, "Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow."

"Elizabeth," he said in realization, turning quickly to Gibbs with a whispered order of, "Hide the rum," as Jack handed the quartermaster a bottle, and he turned to face her.

He glanced at Almyra accusingly, knowing that she knew it was Elizabeth speaking from the moment she turned to look, but he never said anything to his first mate directly. He knew when to pick his battles and what battles to pick, and that was not one that he deemed necessary.

"You know," Jack told the governor's daughter, "these clothes do not flatter you at all. It should be a dress, or nothing at all, and I happen to have no dress on my ship."

Almyra rolled her eyes, looking over at Norrington in disgust as he retched off the side of the dock. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen,_ she thought bitterly.

Elizabeth promptly ignored the offer as any uninterested lady might've, and continued on to her point. "Jack, I know Will came to find you. Where is he?"

The blonde first mate looked back over at Jack, wondering how he would explain what happened to the other woman's fiance.

Jack only hesitated briefly, and glanced at Almyra.

She looked back at him, her expression unreadable except to the captain that knew her better than anyone. She knew exactly what to do—use Elizabeth's need to save Will to secure the heart of Davy Jones, to make sure the monster of a man would call off the creature after Jack.

And Jack got the message. "Darling," he started to explain to Elizabeth, "I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but… through an unfortunate, and _entirely_ unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me—"

Almyra cleared her throat quietly, the message clear. _Don't push it_.

Jack continued like he heard nothing, but as she said, he didn't press on his innocence anymore. "—young William has been press-ganged into joining Davy Jones's crew."

"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth asked slowly, unsure whether to be disbelieving or not.

Norrington, who had just finished another bout of vomiting, laughed in disbelief. "Oh, please. The captain of the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"You look bloody awful," Jack observed in disgust as Almyra took a step back from the rank former commodore. "What are you doing here?"

"You hired me," Norrington snapped, "I can't help it if your standards are lax."

"You smell funny," Jack shot back.

"Jack," Elizabeth called, getting the captain's attention once again. "All I want is to find Will."

Jack glanced at his first mate, who inclined her head slightly, hardly enough to notice. That was when Jack took his advantage. "Are you certain?" He asked, his voice almost soft. "Is that really what you want most?"

Elizabeth almost looked startled at the notion that she could possibly want something before that. "'Course."

"Because I would think, you'd want to find a way to _save_ Will the most."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "And you have a way of doing that?"

Jack shrugged slightly, his near nonchalance making it almost more desirable to listen to what he had to say. "Well, there is a chest…"

"Oh, dear," Norrington grumbled off to the side.

"A chest of unknown size and origin," Jack continued, glancing at Almyra's carefully neutral expression.

"A chest which contains the live, beating heart of Davy Jones," the first mate picked up for Jack.

"And whoever possesses that chest," Jack said again, "possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever he or she wants, including… saving brave William from his grim fate."

Norrington scoffed. "You don't actually believe him, do you?"

Elizabeth didn't say anything for a moment, looking between Jack and Almyra almost suspiciously before she relented. "How do we find it?"

Jack pulled his compass free from his belt. "With this. My compass… is unique."

Norrington rolled his eyes again. "'Unique' here having the meaning of broken."

Jack shrugged again. "True enough. This compass does not point north."

Norrington turned to vomit off the dock again.

Almyra shook her head in disgust.

Elizabeth looked intrigued. "Where does it point?"

Almyra smiled slightly. "Jack's compass points to the thing you want most in the world."

Elizabeth looked at them in surprise. "Are you two telling the truth?"

Jack smiled and nodded. "Every word, love. And what you want most in the world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"

"To save Will?" Elizabeth reminded quickly.

Jack opened the compass in his hand. "By finding the chest of Davy Jones."

He handed the compass to Elizabeth, and then almost darted back behind Almyra to keep from influencing the direction.

Elizabeth was clear on what she wanted, though. The compass pointed perfectly in a single direction.

The captain slowly inched up to peek at the compass needle. He smiled. "My siren," Jack said to Almyra, "we have our heading."

Almyra smiled in return. "Finally." She turned toward the crew, heading to the deck of the _Pearl_. "Cast off those lines, weigh anchor, and prow the canvas!"

Jack motioned for Elizabeth to head onboard. "Miss Swann."


End file.
